


A Safe Place To Lie Your Head

by J_D_McCormick



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne has some issues, Gen, bad parent Talia, light stabbing, vague mention of very bad parenting a la League of Assassins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/pseuds/J_D_McCormick
Summary: “Damian. Are you alright?”Damian gapes at him for a moment. “Am I alright? Father, I am the one who stabbed you.”“Yes. And I would like to know why. I think we’re rather past the point of you stabbing me on purpose.”Damian looks away. There’s a tension around him, a nervous energy that Bruce doesn’t think stems purely from the situation at hand. He tugs at the sleeve of his pyjamas.“You startled me."





	A Safe Place To Lie Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeeeeere I am again on my Bruce&Damian fluff bullshit. I love Bruce being a Good Soft Dad and Damian being Looked After, sue me. Or, go forth and enjoy.

Bruce has set aside today to spend time with his youngest son. He’s asked Lucius to move around board meetings, and shifted deadlines, so that today is free for him to spend with Damian.

He’d also told Alfred to leave Damian to sleep a little longer so that Bruce can wake him himself. Seeing his sons sleepy and soft is a little thing, but Bruce treasures it. But unlike the other boys, Damian never makes half-awake morning appearances at the breakfast table; he’s always completely awake, dressed and presentable and ready. Bruce thinks probably his only chance to see Damian sleep-soft and less than presentable is to be the one to wake him.

Sure enough, when he sticks his head around Damian’s bedroom door, the boy is still asleep. He looks infinitely younger, much more his age Bruce thinks, his little body curled under the blankets and expression lax, without its usual haughty frown. He reminds Bruce of Dick, a little, with his cheeks still round with youth and hair mussed from sleeping. For a moment Bruce just kneels by his son’s bedside, watching his chest rise and fall gently with his quiet breaths, feeling his love for the boy swell in his own.

He reaches out to gently push Damian’s hair from his forehead. “Damian, time to wake up.”

Bruce’s quick reflexes are what save him. Within a split second, Damian has a knife in his hand – from under his pillow, Bruce thinks – and has swiped at Bruce, making to stab into his neck. Bruce reels away, and the knife sinks into his shoulder instead. Bruce grunts in pain, pressing his hand to where the knife is left embedded in his arm. Damian’s eyes are dark, his whole body coiled like a spring, prepared to fight.

Then the tension snaps, his shoulders dropping and his eyes going wide. “Father!” He reaches out to Bruce, then snatches his hands back. His expression twists as he casts around for what to do. “I’m sorry I-… I didn’t… I’ll fetch Pennyworth.”

“Damian-” Bruce calls out, but Damian has already bolted from the room. Wincing at the pain shooting up his arm, Bruce stands and makes his way out of Damian’s bedroom and towards the kitchen, where Alfred is no doubt in the middle of breakfast preparations.

~

Suffice to say, Alfred was not amused to be interrupted by first a reasonably distraught Damian, and shortly after Bruce wandering in, knife still in shoulder and bleeding a fair amount. But that isn’t really Bruce’s priority right now.

“Damian. Are you alright?”

Damian gapes at him for a moment. “Am I alright? Father, I am the one who stabbed _you_.”

“Yes. And I would like to know why. I think we’re rather past the point of you stabbing me on purpose.”

Damian looks away. There’s a tension around him, a nervous energy that Bruce doesn’t think stems purely from the situation at hand. He tugs at the sleeve of his pyjamas.

“You startled me. With Mother, I…” He trailed off.

“She trained you to react as if you were being attacked.” Bruce nods slowly.

“Yes, ‘as if’.” Damian mutters. Bruce thinks it was meant to be quiet enough for him to not hear it. There is a spark of anger in his gut at the implication of the words.

“Usually I… I awake as soon as anyone enters my room.” Damian says, louder. “Even asleep, I maintain vigilance. I usually wake at any sign of someone approaching.” He looks down at his lap, fiddling again with the sleeves of his pyjamas. “I must not have noticed my guard slipping. Pennyworth always announces his entrance. I will make sure to retrain myself.”

Bruce looks at his son sadly.

“You don’t have to do that, Damian.”

“Yes, I do.” Damian snaps a little, shoulders hunching up. Bruce pulls away from Alfred – he hears the butler huff a little, displeased, but the wound is stitched now and Bruce prioritises his son. He ducks to Damian’s height and meets his eyes.

“Why do you?” Bruce asks.

He can see Damian pulling himself inwards for a moment, tense and uncertain, preparing to pull up his walls and push away any attempt to get behind them. He’s learnt to read the boy, and he can see his defences being prepared. But then, Damian drops them, and sighs softly.

“I cannot afford to let my guard down.” He murmurs. “Mother told me I must always be vigilant. That I would always be in danger and that I would be the only one to defend myself. She told me that there is no such thing as safety, and that trusting others would only end with me dead.”

“You know that I will protect you?” Bruce says softly, reaching out to squeeze Damian’s shoulder. “I want you to be able to feel safe here, Damian.”

“I am not safe anywhere.” Damian says. “I cannot feel safe anywhere.”

“You are safe with me.” Bruce tells him, firm.

“It feels wrong. I have never been like this before.” Damian confesses, not meeting Bruce’s gaze. “I feel like I am failing. It… scares me. I did not even realise it was happening.”

“It’s not a failing to trust someone, or rely on them.” Bruce says softly. “I rely on you as my Robin. Does that make me weak, or a failure?”

“No.” Damian mumbles, like he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Then why would it make you a failure to rely on me as your father?”

“Because it’s me.” Damian huffs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Mother told me I was above this.”

“Whatever your mother has told you, you are still a child yet, Damian.” Bruce says, shaking his head when Damian opens his mouth to protest. “A very capable child, yes. But you’re not even fourteen yet. It’s okay for you to need an adult to rely on for things. And it’s absolutely okay for you have somewhere you feel safe enough to relax. That’s what I _want_ for you to have here.”

“What if it’s not safe for you?” Damian asks softly. “I _stabbed _you, Father.”

“I’ll recover.” Bruce reassures him. “And, I will make sure not to startle you awake again. I hope that as you feel safer here, you will stop reacting so defensively.”

“Perhaps.” Damian’s tone doesn’t seem to hold much hope. Bruce reaches out and gently draws Damian into an embrace; the boy doesn’t pull away, or flinch, in fact even presses his forehead to Bruce’s chest, and it speaks for how much he has come along.

“It’ll be alright. There’s nothing we can’t figure out.” Bruce murmurs into his son’s hair, rubbing his back gently.

“Okay, Father.” He murmurs, quiet. He relaxes by degrees, softening in Bruce’s embrace. “I am sorry I stabbed you.”

Bruce chuckles quietly, a low rumble in his chest. “I forgive you, son.” He says. He pats Damian’s shoulder as he pulls back, and watches the boy pull himself together and rearrange his posture into something formal and proper.

“If you are done bleeding all over my kitchen, sir, you might fetch yourself and Master Damian drinks.” Alfred speaks up from where he’s returned to cooking – pancakes, Bruce thinks, which is a favourite of his own and Damian’s.

“Yes, Alfred.” Bruce hums. He thinks he might catch Damian smirking a little out of the corner of his eye, and he smiles as he fetches the both of them drinks. He’s glad to see his son already starting to relax again.

Perhaps, he thinks, Damian is feeling safer already.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you all like it!! Feedback and comments, as always, greatly appreciated.


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